"Last night I had a dream about burritos," my wife told me over breakfast.

Dan Medeiros

"Last night I had a dream about burritos," my wife told me over breakfast.

I'm a man of science, yet I believe dreams are messages from the subconscious trying to communicate in metaphoric language with the sphere of objective reality — but only about food.

The rest of the morning, all we could think about was burritos. The craving became unbearable. By lunch, it was an itch we were desperate to scratch. So my wife, daughter and I headed to Tequila Lime Cantina in downtown Fall River.

Old-time townies like myself might remember the location as the former Swede's Cafe, a quaint coffee shop where years ago I spent late mornings at a window seat with a buttered bagel, coffee and a yellow pad of paper full of scribblings that I used as part of my writing-student costume.

The place has been updated since then, but the owners have not renovated away any of the building's charm. The walls are brightly painted, evoking a south-of-the-border feeling but without the tackiness you sometimes find in Mexican-American joints. The interior is inviting and cozy — almost too cozy in the front room, where a few tables are huddled together elbow-to-elbow. A back room offers more room to spread out — and live entertainment at night.

We sat at a clean table in the front room, wedged between a wall and another table of diners. My wife tried shifting her chair and found one leg was snagged on a grate in the floor. Like I said: cozy.

As you'd expect, Tequila Lime Cantina has a good bar and an extensive drinks selection, with house margaritas by the glass or pitcher, sangria, wine, tequilas and specialty drinks like espresso martinis, spicy Mexican martinis, lemon drops, and that delicious cocktail that every bartender loathes making, the mojito. There's also a drink on the menu called "liquid marijuana," which if it's anything like the real stuff makes you crave nachos, so you're in the right place. Being no fun at all, my wife and I ordered soda water.

The food menu is refreshingly simple — I've been to Mexican-American restaurants with menus as lengthy as Pottery Barn catalogs, despite the fact that almost everything is a variation of "meat and vegetables in a tortilla" anyway. Tequila Lime limits itself to a smaller number of well-considered choices.

We had time to study the menu, since service was a tad slow before we ordered (but hardly the worst I've ever experienced). Appetizers include the taquitos ($8), macho nachos, made with hand-made tortilla chips ($8), and avocado fries ($8).

I'd been tipped off to get the avocado fries, and let me give you the same tip: Get the avocado fries. They're delightful. All three of us dug into about eight wedges of ripe avocado covered in a light, crispy coating. Alongside them was a mildly spicy chipotle dipping sauce that was flavorful without being overpowering. Even my daughter, who isn't yet 2, took an avocado wedge in her little fists and made short work of it, then looked for more.

My wife and I bypassed those — we were there at the behest of the burrito dream. Tequila Lime has several signature styles, like the Texan with chicken, chipotle citrus barbecue sauce and Monterey jack cheese ($9), or the Holy Jalapeno, which has marinated steak, jalapeño peppers, cilantro and onions ($9).

My wife picked the Blue Buffalo burrito, with chicken, blue cheese, sriracha, salsa and sour cream ($9). Having squatted heavy weight that morning, I considered the Incredible Hulk burrito, packed with three kinds of protein, but instead went with the Portuguese burrito ($9), with chourico and roasted peppers — and I added some tequila lime shrimp in there too ($4).

We ordered my daughter a chicken taco ($4). It arrived open-faced on a soft tortilla, piled high with cheese and sour cream. It looked tasty (and it was — I ate it later), but my daughter went straight for the side of homemade tortilla chips instead. The chips are crunchy but a little soft, and not too oily.

The burritos were hefty, packed solid with filling. They also came with a side of homemade tortilla chips for crunch. The Portuguese burrito was rather thin on chourico but loaded with an assortment of flavors and textures. I dug inside to unearth a shrimp, and found them nicely cooked and spiced.

My wife said the chicken in her burrito could have been a little more tender than it was, and by the time she reached the end, she looked puzzled and said, "I'm not sure there was any blue cheese in it." Admittedly it's hard to separate individual ingredients when they're all rolled together, so it's an unsolved mystery.

By the time I polished off my burrito, I was stuffed. I couldn't force myself to order dessert. My brain wanted to try the churros, fried ice cream, flan or key lime pie ($6) — perhaps some of each mixed together in a big bowl — but my stomach wouldn't let me.

After paying the $44 tab, I turned to my wife. "The burrito visions — are they gone?"

She patted her stomach. "For now," she said.

Dine Out's reviewer visits restaurants unannounced and at his or her discretion. The newspaper pays for the meals reviewed. The reviews merely reflect one diner's experience. Ratings range from 1 to 5 stars.